


Tokens of Affection

by 4nakisa



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Crack, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 08:29:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9648104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4nakisa/pseuds/4nakisa
Summary: Arthur has unconventional wooing methods, Merlin despairs, Morgana laughs, and Gwen in on the verge of a nervous breakdown.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this way back when on lj, might as well post it. Set during season 2, while I still had hope.

“That boar put up quite a fight,” said Arthur sinking into the bathtub. “If it weren’t for my crossbow and my inability to be anything less than amazing it would have successfully charged at me.”

It had become a routine of sorts for them, since they brought Gwen back home. Arthur would get up before dawn to go hunting and Merlin would have a bath ready for him when he returned. Merlin supposed that was his way of coping with the whole Lancelot debacle but, really, it had been going on long enough.

“Arthur, I know things haven’t been well… since…” Merlin’s words withered to nothing under Arthur’s murderous glare. “Anyway, do you have any idea how hard it is to carry all the buckets of water to fill your bathtub?” Merlin asked instead, while gathering the clothes Arthur had strewn across the floor.

Arthur clenched his jaw and sat up straighter. “Well, at least I bathe regularly, unlike some people I could mention…”

“Not this again,” Merlin said, rolling his eyes.

Arthur had changed, true, but Merlin was pretty sure that even in a distant future, when they’d all be old and grey, Arthur would still be a prat. It was what made Arthur _Arthur_. And, of course, living up to his prattishness, Arthur had taken every opportunity to make disparaging remarks about Lancelot.

Merlin steeled himself and spoke to Arthur in the same patient tone he used whenever Arthur got hit on the head during practice. After all, as he had come to find, a concussed Arthur was not so different from a love-struck Arthur.

“You know very well Lancelot had been fighting even before we got there, it’s ridiculous to expect him to-”

“May I remind you,” Arthur said in his best supercilious tones. “That I made us stop by the river to wash after we faced the giant baby rats, even though we were in a hurry.”

Merlin lifted his eyes heavenwards and silently begged for patience. Lancelot was not the easiest person to criticise, so that left Arthur with limited options. At least that was what Merlin chanted to himself to justify Arthur’s new disturbing pastime. It was either that or admit he was the other half of a rabidly insane coin.

“That bloody overgrown lizard,” Merlin muttered to himself.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing!”

“Anyway, I should probably be thankful,” Arthur said with a small grin while sinking back into the bathtub. “His eye-watering stench probably kept Guinevere at some distance.”

“Honestly Arthur-”

“I worry, though,” Arthur interrupted, contemplatively rubbing his chin. “You saw how he… besmirched her hand in the tunnel. One doesn’t need to look closely to see he needs to be deloused.”

Merlin thought that was just the outside of enough.

“Arthur, if you’re not going to tell Gwen how you feel, you need to move on, or at least pretend to.”

“Move on?” Arthur asked with a look of outrage and amazement. “I don’t see why I should move on when my wooing has been going marvellously.”

Merlin brightened. “You’ve told her, then!”

Arthur waved a languorous hand at him. “In a way.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you know how I’ve been hunting…” Arthur said, his eyes gleaming manically.

“So you claim, though I have yet to see you bring anything home.”

“Oh, Merlin! You simple soul, you,” Arthur sighed condescendingly. “I’ve been giving them to Guinevere.”

“Giving them.”

“Yes.”

“To Gwen?”

“Yes.”

They stared at each other for a few moments. Merlin looking utterly at a loss and Arthur looking as if a round of applause were in order.

“Why not flowers? Or jewellery, or something?”

Arthur gave him a patient, if pitying look. “That is for ordinary women and Guinevere is far from ordinary. She’s-”

“I know, I know, an angel among mere mortals.”

“Yes,” Arthur exclaimed, deeply gratified. He sank deeper into the tub.

“She cares not for earthly riches and the like. She has made that… abundantly clear to me. So,” Arthur said with a huge satisfied grin on his face. “I’ve decided to show her that I appreciate and follow her advice.”

“Her advice?”

“Yes. Well, you know, when she found out that our dinner came from the palace kitchens, she was a tad… miffed.”

“Right.”

“And I told her I could kill a chicken at a thousand paces but I couldn’t cook it because…” Arthur frowned, as if reconsidering. “Well, anyway, she said something about how it’s important not to be a liar, and to be humble, and a good king who respects all his subjects. So, as you can see,” he finished, spreading his arms wide as if presenting his magnificence.

“I… can?” Merlin asked faintly.

Arthur gave him an impatient look.

“I’m doing what Guinevere told me to do: no lies. I am a superb hunter - if not a cook - so I give her whatever game I catch, you know, as tokens of my affection. See? I’m giving her something I got out of my own labour, something practical, instead of buying… laces and… and whatever it is that girls like,” he concluded, looking well-pleased with himself.

“Are you serious,” Merlin bleated out, looking shaken.

“I don’t see why I would not-”

“That- That’s the lesson you decided to take from Gwen’s speech on how to be a good king?” Merlin asked him, looking completely aghast.

Arthur gave him a thoroughly unimpressed look. “I’m not stupid Merlin, but I need to start somewhere and well…” Arthur shrugged. “Most of the other things will only be possible once I am king.”

“You could start showing some more respect for your servants.”

“I already have.”

“Oh, you have?” Merlin snapped.

“What about the other day when you tripped me into the pigsty then later ordered me out of your room because, and I quote, I "carried an air of pestilence" with me?”

“But I waited until you left to start gagging and to open the windows to air out the room! Why? Because I have tact!” Arthur exclaimed, looking slighted by such ungratefulness.

Merlin gave him a disbelieving look and Arthur continued dreamily. “Guinevere is a better advisor than most of the court counsellors. She’s brilliant, really – it’s no good to have your people revolt against you because they feel you don’t respect them,” Arthur gestured wildly with his hands, spreading water everywhere. “After all, a king with no people is just an idiot with a tiara.”

Merlin decided to surrender to avoid being swept by the insanity.

“Well, at least giving her the game makes for a nice opportunity for the two of you to talk,” he conceded.

“Talk?” Arthur said, looking affronted. “I would never compromise Guinevere in such a way! No, I just leave it by her doorstep. It shows forethought on defending her honour, and Guinevere likes that gallant stuff. At least she did with Lancelot.” Arthur paused for a moment, looking too choked up on his own hate to go on.

“He’s not that bad,” Merlin said, trying to appease him. “I distinctly remember you two being friends before this whole thing.”

Arthur gave him his best lordly look of contempt. “He made Guinevere cry,” he said in a chilly tone that brooked no argument Merlin almost pointed out that so had his father, but really, this was not the time.

“Well, be that as it may, he’s not here anymore. I don’t see what’s the use of keeping this up when he’s far away, following his dreams of-”

“Pfft, following his dreams. That’s exactly the kind of thing a dirty pipe weed smoker would do,” Arthur waved dismissively before continuing with alarming new cheer. “I hope he has to face a dragon! The way his hair has been looking, I’m sure he’d go up in a great grease fire.”

“For the last time, Lancelot is not-“

“I felt tempted to write “WASH ME” on his armour,” Arthur said, in tones of supreme disgust.

Suddenly the exact meaning of what Arthur had said earlier hit him. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait,” Merlin got up, looking increasingly horrified. “You’re telling me you’ve been leaving dead animal carcasses in front of Gwen’s door for several dawns a week in the last month?”

“I know, isn’t it romantic?” Arthur asked, sounding deeply impressed with his own brilliance.

Merlin stared at him completely appalled, contemplating the best way to tell him that his actions could only be deemed acceptable if he were a cat.

“Do you- do you leave a note or something…”

“Of course not. She knows they’re from me,” Arthur said dismissively before giving him a venomous look. “I hope you’re not insinuating that Guinevere would have some other man leaving his hunting spoils by her door”

“I can honestly say no other man would ever dream of doing that.”

“Exactly,” said Arthur, a wide grin on his face. He grabbed a washing cloth. “Now leave me to my ablutions, Merlin,” he said grandly.

 

*

“I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been worried lately, Merlin,” Morgana said while taking a seat next to him.

“Oh, you know, hard work. Arthur and Gaius…” Merlin muttered vaguely.

“It’s pretty clear there is something more than that,” Morgana gave him a look full of sympathy. “Come now, we’re friends. You can confide in me. After what you did for me… You know you can.”

“Well,” Merlin hesitated before looking into her kind eyes and realising that, of all people, Morgana really was in a position to help. “If you must know… it’s Arthur.”

Morgana sat up straighter. “Oh. What about him?”

Merlin looked extremely uncomfortable. “He’s… he’s in love.”

“Really? How disgusting.”

“Morgana,” Merlin pleaded.

“Oh, fine,” Morgana paused for a long moment, seemingly deep in thought. “No… nothing. I’m attempting to care, but it’s really not happening.”

Merlin gave her a reproachful look.

“Besides, Arthur?” Morgana waved his concerns away. “We have bigger problems on our hands, Merlin. I think Gwen might be in danger.”

“Danger?”

“Yes, the poor girl is a nervous wreck. Someone’s been leaving dead animal carcasses on her doorstep. No note. Even for a threat, it’s pretty sick.”

Merlin felt his stomach drop and the blood drain from his face.

“Umm,” he tried to begin. “About that… I know- I know what’s going on.”

Morgana looked at him inquisitively.

Merlin took a deep breath. “It’s Arthur. He’s the one who’s been leaving those things by Gwen’s door.”

“Arthur?!” Morgana pushed back her chair in anger. “I’m going to snap his stupid neck! What sick game does he think he’s playing-”

“I’ve told you,” Merlin attempted to explain while reaching out for her arm. “He’s in love.”

Morgana gave him a blank, uncomprehending look.

“With Gwen,” Merlin clarified.

“Oh. Ohhhh,” Morgana’s eyes went wide. “Then why is he leaving those morbid, disgusting… Really! This is going way past pulling pigtails. I mean, Gwen?! She could do a lot better than him!”

“Well, from what I understood, he… practical tokens… not- not lace?” Merlin struggled to make sense. “He wants to follow advice…”

“Merlin, I understood very little, now I understand even less.”

“Well, you know how cats show affection?”

Morgana looked as if she had never heard of anything quite so revolting.

“Men! Instead of picking flowers he sends her a bouquet of lifeless birds? I told you she could do better!”

Merlin could not help but secretly agree.

“Well, are you going to help?”

“Why should I?” Morgana smoothed her cuffs with studied indifference. “That’s boring, I want to watch him struggle.”

“Morgana…”

“Oh, alright, then. For Gwen,” she said leaning closer to him. “We can talk now. I sent her to see Gaius. Apparently, Arthur left her a dead boar on her doorstep this morning. The poor girl was in dire need of something for her nerves. So, what is your plan to stop Arthur’s insanity?”

“Arthur is not insane.” Morgana looked unconvinced.

“Well, not violently so, at any rate…”

“Didn’t he slap you in the rear with manticore lungs, the last time there was an attack?”

“Only once,” Merlin hurried to assure her. “And I did make him chase me for almost a mile across difficult terrain before he-”

“I do not wish to quibble, Merlin,” Morgana interrupted him. “Anyway, do we even know if Gwen returns his… feelings?”

Merlin took a deep breath, held it for a moment and then expelled it noisily. “I think… I mean, I’m pretty sure she does.”

“But why?” Morgana wailed. “Even if we ignore the fact that he’s a prat, I mean, look at him - his Adam’s apple makes it look as if he's swallowed a pigeon!”

Merlin touched his own Adam’s apple self-consciously. “Well, I… can’t say I’ve noti- do girls really care about- I didn’t know-”

Morgana raised her chin proudly. “Well, better Arthur than that Lancelot.”

“Now, come on, Lancelot isn’t that bad.”

“He made Gwen cry,” Morgana said in tones that almost froze the windowpanes. “She told me so. Besides, never trust a man who claims to love you but still manages to make sense while speaking to you. All that flowery wooing is not to be trusted – I heard him talking to her once, he didn’t even stutter while spewing that nonsense.”

“It’s not- it’s- it’s not nonsen-nonsense, it’s just… he’s a very sensitive- he’s…” Merlin babbled, ears bright red. “Wh-what were we talking about?”

“Still, I can’t believe Gwen is actually in love with Arthur,” Morgana said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “He's so clearly in love with himself, I can't see why any woman would bother... Oh well, at least I can save this for later ridicule.”

“Morgana, please, don’t tease him,” Merlin pleaded. “You didn’t see the way he was. I’ve never seen Arthur look this… sad. He was really heartbroken. He said- he said he thinks about her all the time, that he cares about her more than anyone in the world…”

Morgana looked surprisingly touched, but quickly hid it. “How dare you make me feel guilty for a lifetime of mockery, Merlin? Robber of fun, thief of glee.”

Merlin gave her an embarrassed smile, ducking his head.

“Well, I think it’s obvious that, first of all, Arthur needs to be stopped,” Morgana said determinedly. “You do that and I’ll try to… prepare Gwen for the tragic truth that Arthur’s… oars aren’t really touching the water these days, so to speak.”

“How am I supposed to stop him?”

“I don’t know, Merlin,” Morgana returned sharply. “But given his current… behaviour, I think you should do it quickly, lest Arthur starts acting more and more like a household pet and begins marking his territory, if you know what I mean.”

 

*

 

Since the moment he had set Arthur’s dinner on the table, Merlin had been searching for an opportunity to bring up the subject of Arthur’s unconventional wooing methods.

Unfortunately, Arthur did not even pause listing his demands to chew his food.

“And don’t forget to polish my armour, Merlin. I told you to polish it this morning, and you claimed you had, but instead I saw you making bovine eyes at Morgana again.”

Merlin rolled his eyes.

“And mend my red tunic, but mend it well this time, by God!, the last time you mended it the stitches looked like a chicken’s puckering-”

Merlin had been sitting by the window, staring absently into the night sky, but he turned to look at what could have possibly caused Arthur to shut up.

To Merlin’s alarm, Arthur was staring in a disturbingly besotted way at a slice of bread dripping honey down his sleeve.

“Um… Arthur?”

“Yes?” he asked distractedly, idiotic smile firmly on his face.

“What- what are you doing?”

Arthur seemed to remember himself and cleared his throat while attempting to assume a nonchalant pose. “Oh, nothing, nothing.”

Merlin stared at him unblinkingly.

“Oh, alright,” Arthur said in an aggrieved sort of way. “It’s just… well, look at it!”

Merlin stared with growing dread as Arthur held the bread slice with disconcerting tenderness.

“My children - well, mine and Guinevere’s, of course – will look like this,” he said dreamily.

“Your children will be slices of bread?” Merlin asked in a soothing voice, clearly humouring him to gain time and escape.

“Really, Merlin,” Arthur dropped the bread slice back onto his plate. “It never ceases to amaze me that, while possessing ears large enough to listen to conversations two villages away, you never manage to actually hear anything I say.”

Merlin was about to tell him of his pigeon-like Adam’s apple, but reconsidered, due to Arthur’s current state of mind.

“I meant the colouring,” Arthur explained, beatific smile firmly back in place. “Wheat and honey.”

“That’s- that’s lovely, Arthur.”

“No need to sound so stand-offish, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad for being so pasty.”

“I’m not-,” Merlin spluttered. “Well, you’re not exactly tan yourself!”

“Better than you! You look as if you’ve been stolen from a mass grave,” Arthur said while putting his feet on the table. “That time we went swimming – still don’t know how I regained my sight – you took off your clothes and night fell around us, your bare white arse absorbed all sunlight.”

“Well, at least we know Lancelot will never have that problem,” Merlin replied nastily. As soon as he said it, he knew it had been a mistake.

Arthur took his feet off the table and looked distraught. “What if you’re right?” Arthur asked in an anguished voice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t- what? I can’t be right, I didn’t even say anyth-”

“Maybe that’s why she tied herself to him, back to back,” Arthur grumbled, fingers raking nervously through his hair.

“She- she couldn’t have. I mean, how-”

“Well, then maybe that’s why she held his hand,” Arthur said, voice rough and shoulders slumped in misery.

“Because… because his bare arse does not absorb sunlight?”

Arthur gave him an annoyed look.

“Because it makes him look… dashing. All… tall, dark and handsome,” he suddenly looked very sad. “Perhaps I was right. I can’t expect Guinevere to wait for me.”

“Arthur…”

“Maybe it’s not meant to be. Maybe I will never have Guinevere by my side. Sending me off to battle with a kiss. Telling me to dress warm, telling me to make sure my saddle is cinched, telling me when I put my armour on backwards.”

“Is that- is that even feasible?”

Arthur’s head snapped in his direction. All the pain seemed to have been replaced by pure viciousness. “Of course you wouldn’t understand!”

Merlin decided to stay silent. Arthur wasn’t the best when it came to expressing his feelings, always lashing out when he felt insecure.

“I don’t even recall ever seeing you- Even when Morgana went missing, you weren’t looking wretchedly miserable! The only time you ever looked…” Arthur’s eyes widened in mad epiphany. “The only time you’ve ever looked as miserable as I’m feeling was during the whole unicorn thing!”

“I. What.”

“My God, Merlin, that is sick!”

“Wait, what just happened?”

“You happened, Merlin!” Arthur shouted before pointing to the door. “Now get out of my sight! Go… do something- polish my armour, clean the stables- No! On second thought, I don’t want you anywhere near the stables! Just get out!”

Merlin tried to maintain eye contact and never turn his back on him while he made his way towards the exit.

“And take that cheese with you! It smells like feet and reminds me of Lancelot!”

 

*

 

As soon as Merlin closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh of relief, he came face to face with Gwen.

“Gwen! I- I-“

“It’s alright. You can go now, Merlin,” Gwen told him while gently pushing him towards the corridor. She watched him leave and turned towards the door, taking a deep breath before knocking.

“I WANT NO FURTHER CONTACT WITH YOUR SICK PERVERSIONS!”

Gwen rolled her eyes and opened the door. “Be that as it may, Arthur, we need to talk.”

Arthur looked as though somebody had slapped him across the face with a sizeable flounder. He clutched the table for support, his hand landing right on the bread slice.

“Guinevere! You should- you shouldn’t be here,” he stuttered while nervously raking his honey smeared fingers through his hair.

Gwen looked torn between exasperation and fondness.

“Oh, honestly, Arthur,” she said while reaching for his napkin, wetting it with the water pitcher then walking over to him.

Arthur was looking both apprehensive and elated, beaming stupidly down at Gwen, right eye a little lazy from the drying honey that had trickled down his forehead.

“You’re going to have to bend down, you know,” Gwen told him with a soft smile.

“Right. Right,” Arthur mumbled stupidly as he bowed his head down towards her.

Gwen gently wiped his face. “Arthur, about the boar…”

“Impressive, wasn’t it?” Arthur asked, glowing with pride.

“Yes, I want you to stop.”

There was a horrible silence.

“Oh,” Arthur said, his throat tight with sudden overwhelming despair.

“I don’t mean-I don’t mean… wooing me,” Gwen hurried to reassure him. “Just… well, to be perfectly honest Arthur, leaving a boar on my doorstep? That- that is… not normal.”

“Right. I- I can get you- anything you want… flowers? Do you like... lace?”

Gwen shook her head. “I don’t need anything, Arthur.”

“I just wanted… I was trying to be… a better man,” Arthur said, shoulders hunched under the weight of his misery. “The man you said I was inside. Someone worthy of you.”

“Arthur… didn’t I tell you you had nothing to prove, least of all to me?”

Arthur gave her a slight smile. “And I told you I had everything to prove – to myself.”

“Well, you do that, without leaving boars on my doorstep,” Gwen smiled fondly, and then carried on a bit hesitantly. “You can… you can bring me small game, if you like, as long as… as long as you come around for dinner.”

Arthur gave her a startled look. “Your reputation-”

“As long as you don’t ride down the street in chainmail and full armour while bearing Camelot’s standard, I’m sure no one will notice.”

“I can do that,” Arthur said, giving her a slow smile before bending down to kiss her. They both smiled into the kiss.

“Honey and wheat,” Arthur mumbled against Gwen’s lips.

“Wheat? What?”

“Um…”

 

*

 

“Well,” Merlin said, standing awkwardly by the door. “I see you slightly deviated from our plan to stop Arthur and… prepare Gwen for a lifetime of madness.”

Morgana didn’t even pause brushing her hair. “Oh, that? I gave it some thought and realised that if I had never been able to stop Arthur from being insane, certainly no man - no offence, Merlin – would best me.”

“None taken,” Merlin said, smiling slightly. “How did she take it?”

“Oh, there were a lot of "So many questions beginning with “Why...” come to mind" and "What sort of madness is this, my parents never prepared me for this," and of course "How is that appealing, like, at all",” Morgana said in amused tones, making exuberant gestures with her hands before continuing more uncertainly. “But she had that look, you know?”

“What look?”

“The that-is-unforgivably-crazy-but-I-can’t-help-feeling-fond-of-him look. Tragic, if you ask me.”

Merlin snorted. “I don’t know, I think they make a good-looking couple.”

“Well, I guess they’ll have pretty children,” Morgana said with a small shrug.

Merlin tried not to visibly flinch as horrific flashbacks of bread slices threatened to shatter his nerves.

“Think he’ll ruin it?” Morgana asked abruptly.

“What?” “Arthur. Gwen was quite forgiving of the whole thing, so I don’t think there’s much he can say that could actually put her off. But Arthur… Has he ever said anything… that could be…”

Merlin hesitated for a long moment. “Once… during practice, Sir Leon hit him on the head pretty hard-”

“A man after my own heart,” Morgana interrupted.

Merlin scowled but went on. “And he… he said a few things that… I don’t think he’d ever actually say to her. At least I fervently hope not.”

“I always hope Arthur doesn’t say a lot of things but hope lets me down constantly. What exactly did he say?”

“Umm… I don’t really… I mean…” Merlin babbled, ears going a violent shade of red. “It- Well… I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t want to repeat it in front of- in front of a lady.”

“You’re right, Merlin,” Morgana said with heavy sarcasm. “It would not be proper if you - while we are unchaperoned in my chambers after dark and I’m already in my nightclothes - would quote Arthur’s idiotic comments.”

“Fine,” he narrowed his eyes at her. “He said- he said- mind you he was hit rather hard, he was distracted because Gwen appeared at your window- and, I mean, you could hear the crack all around the-”

“Lies,” Morgana interrupted him again. “It would sound like a drum.”

Merlin pretended not to hear. “Well, anyway… he was pretty dazed. He said… Well, he held onto my tunic and he was a bit… overwrought…”

“Get on with it, Merlin.”

“He said we had to hide Gwen from Uther because her… her… her… breasts were magical.”

They were both silent for a tense moment.

“The sad part about that,” Morgana mused. “Is that it’s entirely valid reasoning.”

Merlin looked utterly at a loss.

“Anyway,” Morgana waved her hand a little as if she could shoo the awkwardness away. “We can always hope he won’t mention it to Gwen.”

“Yes, yes, let’s- let’s hope so,” Merlin said, hand poised on the doorknob, eager to escape. He paused and gathered courage before turning around. “Morgana, I-”

He was startled to see Morgana had actually followed him to the door and was standing awfully close.

He cleared his throat, struggling to regain his voice. “Morgana… I’d like to- well, I’d just like to say… thanks.”

“Oh?” she said slowly, her eyes glittering with amusement. “I think you should be more grateful than just a simple "Thanks".”

Her words knocked him off-balance and Merlin’s back hit the door. “What. I. What. Um... Whatever- of course- whatever you-you want or need or-“

Morgana gave him a radiant smile. “I like it when you stutter, Merlin.” Merlin gulped, his eyes wide.

Suddenly the door was slammed open, thumping Merlin between the shoulder blades and knocking what little air there was left out of his lungs.

Arthur walked right in and spoke in a loud, cheerful voice. “Morgana have you seen- Merlin! What are you… well, never mind that. Let’s go. Camelot is under attack by a giant ferocious bunny.”

Arthur grabbed Merlin’s tunic and physically dragged him away, Merlin looking apologetically behind him.

Morgana put her hands on her hips and pouted. “Typical.”

 

The End


End file.
